


a flight of sparrows

by okstray



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Gen, I don't know what else to say, Original Character(s), Updating tags as we go along, Worldbuilding, this is hell
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:41:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27009772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okstray/pseuds/okstray
Summary: the flock has lived out generations in secrecy, avoiding the hunters of both the land and the sky in an attempt to preserve their kind. following the disappearance of their seer, the flock is forced to come to terms with their greatest fear--the four ground clans are drawing ever closer to their safe haven....imagine that there are winged cats--bear with me--and i put them into the world of warriors with my little gremlin hands. a flight of sparrows is a warrior cats story rich in worldbuilding and plot, featuring original clans and a tired, tired god (the author).it's also an attempt of seeing just how many words i can write for a single story/universe. i am doing this out of Spite.
Kudos: 5





	a flight of sparrows

**Author's Note:**

> excerpt from the "about" page on the [A Flight of Sparrows tumblr:](https://aflightofsparrows.tumblr.com/about)
> 
> "this is my villain origin story.
> 
> i have one shot at infamy, and by the gods, i will hunt it."

Puddlepaw scurried to catch up with her mentor, the tall trees intimidating her into staying with the rest of the patrol. She eyed the dreary mist that bled into their territory. How did Fogclan manage to deal with it all the time? Wouldn’t it make their fur damp and their whiskers droopy? Is it hard to breathe in? Before she could slip into a daydream about life as a Fogclan cat, her mentor called her from ahead.

“Why are we going this way, Ferngust?” The grey molly asked. This part of the forest was beginning to look unfamiliar, the trees arranged in ways that she hadn’t seen before. Soon there would only be wilderness. 

“Because the dawn hunting patrol scented an outsider over here.” Before Ferngust could speak, the patrol leader and Poppyclan deputy, Crowstripe, answered. “The trail’s still fresh. If there’s an outsider crossing Clan borders, then we need to turn them away.”

Puddlepaw mumbled an “oh” and continued following the two older cats. That made enough sense to her. What if the outsider didn’t actually cross, though? Would they just sort of warn them that this is claimed territory? Would it still be their problem if the outsider just crossed into Fogclan, rather than Poppyclan?

As they drew closer to the end of Clan territory, it became apparent to even Puddlepaw that there was another cat somewhere nearby. From the down feathers she saw in the wind, they must have recently hunted. There was something else, too, underneath the outsider’s scent that unnerved her. She leaned towards Ferngust, who gave her a reassuring look. This smell… she couldn’t place it. It tasted of sharp stones.

Movement caught her eye from the side and Puddlepaw flicked her tail against Ferngust’s side. Her mentor’s head snapped towards the misty forest, eyes narrowed and ears twitching. Crowstripe stepped in front of the pair with bristling fur and unsheathed claws. Another scent overpowered the scent of the outsider--the scent of Fogclan.

“Stay behind us,” Ferngust whispered, stalking forward to stand by Crowstripe. Puddlepaw nodded and crouched as she kept her tail close to herself.

Across the border, a lanky grey and white tom emerged from the forest, green eyes gleaming in contempt as he led his warriors to the border. Crowstripe and Ferngust stood their ground.

“What do we have here?” The tom drawled, stopping before he could cross the invisible scent line that defined the two Clans’ territories. He wore a smirk as he tilted his head at the patrol. “A group of Poppyclan cats trying to hunt on our land?”

“Just remarking borders, Sootstep,” Crowstripe said. Her tail lashed in slow arcs.

“You’d think a border patrol would have a group of cats more… _prepared_ for potential threats.”

“Ferngust and I are more than enough to warn off anything near our borders.”

“Sure,” Sootstep said dismissively, waving a paw. He tilted his head and peered between the two mollies, cold eyes locking with Puddlepaw’s. “Can you do that when you’ve got such _precious_ cargo to take care of, as well?”

“You don’t get to bring her into this, not when you have an apprentice of your own here,” Ferngust hissed. Puddlepaw watched as her mentor stepped forward, only to be stopped by the touch of Crowstripe’s tail. Ferngust set her jaw and glowered at Sootstep. “ _He_ still looks like a kitten.”

One of the warriors from Sootstep’s party snapped back; all too quickly, the tense exchange exploded into a full-blown argument. Puddlepaw could feel the fur on her back rise against her will as she tried to avoid any further interaction with the Fogclan cats. She was ready to push Ferngust and Crowstripe away, even if it meant getting mocked and belittled by the other party. It was better to be humiliated than to die in a skirmish. A calm, meek voice, a stark contrast to the taunts thrown over it, reached her ears.

“Hey, did you guys smell an outsider?” A black and white tom, peering out from behind the legs of what Puddlepaw assumed to be his mentor, looked at her with curiosity. “Duckspots was talking about one before we met you guys.”

“Yes,” Puddlepaw meowed back quietly, glancing at the adults and sneaking off to the side as they yelled at each other. The other apprentice followed, his body sticking low to the ground. Though they were now distinctly separate from the two patrols, neither dared to cross the borders for fear of what could ensue. “They should still be nearby if they weren’t scared off by all the shouting.”

“I think they’re still around. I can still smell them. I’m Ospreypaw, by the way.”

“Puddlepaw. I’m sorry if we stepped too close to your borders.”

“It’s okay, we’ve run into each other at the wrong time, that’s all,” Ospreypaw meowed, then looked in the direction the outsider’s scent came from. “Let’s go see.”

“What about our patrols?” Puddlepaw asked. She risked a glance over her shoulder; the two groups were now as close to each other as they could be without crossing their own borders. Crowstripe looked about ready to tear Sootstep’s throat out, and Ferngust bore her teeth at the other two warriors.

“They haven’t noticed us yet. And I think they all will be more worried about the outsider, once we find them.” Ospreypaw slinked towards unclaimed territory, not waiting for Puddlepaw to catch up.

“What if the outsider’s dangerous?”

“You’re a real worrywart, huh.” Ospreypaw rolled his eyes, seeming more confident now that they had escaped the negative energy coming from everyone else. “I bet the two of us together can handle it. And we’re not going to go too far. They’ll be able to come help us in time if we call them.”

With a resigned flick of the ear, Puddlepaw sighed and followed the Fogclan apprentice. He was right about the second point; she could still hear the shouts of the other warriors, could still see them, clear as day. The first point, though? She had doubts about that. She wasn’t a new apprentice, and would receive her name in a few moons, and yet there was so much she still had to learn about fighting. And Ospreypaw? He was definitely younger than she was, acting big and tough when he wasn’t in that way kits do. They scampered forward and Puddlepaw shook her head, clearing her mind. This wasn’t the time to think about any of this.

“They should be near here,” Ospreypaw meowed after he stopped, sniffing the air a final time before his eyes widened in shock. “But—but there’s something wrong. There’s blood.”

“Blood?” Puddlepaw was about to ask the Fogclan apprentice what he meant when the scent hit her like a wall: sharp, stony, and all around her. “Oh, Starclan.”

“We need to go back,” Ospreypaw said, his voice rising at the end: a tell-tale sign that Ospreypaw hadn’t been apprenticed for long. “We—we shouldn’t have looked for them. They’ll probably kill us if they spot us.”

“What?”

“The outsider must’ve hurt someone, Puddlepaw. We need to go. At least get the others.” Ospreypaw strode across the border without a second thought, nudging Puddlepaw towards the patrols. The grey molly dug her claws into the grass. That might be true. But what if it was the opposite?

“What—wait, no, what if the outsider’s hurt and needs help?” Puddlepaw whipped around and looked Ospreypaw in the eyes; the tom held her gaze steadily, then let out a shaky sigh. “We can’t just leave them to die, and it was your idea in the first place to find the outsider. Aren’t you a big, strong apprentice?”

“Okay. Okay, fine, we’ll go look,” Ospreypaw muttered, stepping back. “You Poppyclan cats and always sticking your nose in everyone’s business…”

“It’s part of the warrior code, Ospreypaw. Even if the cat’s not of the Clans.”

The apprentices only had to walk a few more fox-lengths before they heard the soft rustle of grass and heavy breathing behind a fallen tree. They shared an uneasy look; Ospreypaw gestured for Puddlepaw to take the lead—which she supposed was only fair, since she was older, and the one who wanted to see if the outsider needed help. Puddlepaw shook her head and stepped around the log.

It was the outsider. He was a slightly older cat, though certainly not an elder. His pelt was messy and long, and obviously ruffled by something, someone. Half his face was masked by blood and he lay sprawled in the grass. A single wide, green eye peered up from the ground, boring into her soul.

There was something unnatural about him. He had wings.

Puddlepaw turned to ask Ospreypaw what they should do, but the tom had already whipped around and ran back in the direction of the patrols, shouting all the way. She flattened her ears against her head, her heart beginning to race, but she steeled herself to look at the outsider once more. At first glance it looked like he lost a fight with a hawk. No, those wings were his own.

“Please,” The outsider said, his voice gravelly. He spoke through an oddly long, beak-like mouth. One of his paws reached out to Puddlepaw; she took a step back. Those were not cat’s claws. They were the talons of an eagle. “Please help me.”

“Who—” She looked around. He was still alive. The blood smelled fresh. Whatever got him might still be around. But… she couldn’t just leave him here. She couldn’t. He needed help. “Who are you? What are you?”

“I was caught,” The outsider gasped. His wings fluttered pathetically in an attempt to push him up, and his grasping talons twisted the grass beneath him. “I can’t... Please, I need help.”

Puddlepaw didn’t turn around when she heard the thundering of paws drawing near. Crowstripe pushed past her, instinctively shielding her from the outsider. Fur brushed against her own. Ospreypaw joined Puddlepaw as they peered at the winged outsider from between the older cats’ legs.

“What in StarClan…” Sootstep said, jaw slack as he stepped beside Crowstripe. He shook his head, as if to focus. The FogClan deputy jerked his chin at the two warriors he came with. “Duckspots, get cobwebs. Berryheart, fetch Petalwhisker. Hurry.”

“What is your name? Who are you?” Crowstripe asked as the two FogClan warriors disappeared into their territories. Puddlepaw watched the outsider’s maw tremble, the blood giving off a sickly shine in the sun.

“Where the sun rises...”

Before the outsider could finish his sentence, the words became strangled in his throat and his good eye clouded over with a starry gaze. Puddlepaw’s mouth dropped as she leaned into Ospreypaw. This was—she had seen the medcat do this, once, when Starclan reached out to him. Puddlepaw’s thoughts were interrupted as the outsider spoke, in an eerily strong, detached voice.

_“A storm of fire and frost will rage, but the sparrow will brave it all.”_

The outsider dropped his head as the light left his eye. He struggled to breathe no more.


End file.
